When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(68)

No. Because after Sara, I stopped wanting anything for myself. I didn’t want to risk having something I cared about only for someone to take it away from me. Again.

I found my purpose serving Damiano and being his right-hand man, but is that really all I want out of life?

Gemma’s brows pinch together as she waits for my answer.

She and I, we’re not so different after all. She’s been devoted to her family, neglecting her own wants in service of them.

And me… Well, I’ve devoted myself to Dem and his mission. I’ve even managed to convince myself I’ve found happiness doing that.

But I’ve been lying to myself.

I’m not happy.

Last time I fell hard for a woman, I lost her.

And I think that’s going to happen again.

Because I can’t have Gemma without blowing everything to pieces and going against my don’s will.





CHAPTER 22





GEMMA


We sit down for dinner. Something is wrong with Ras tonight, but I can’t figure out what. He’s been quiet since I found him by the bar, his brows furrowed in thought.

Mamma’s last-minute trip to the Hamptons couldn’t have happened at a worse time. She said she wanted to give us a chance to process the news we got somewhere calm, but I have a feeling Papà asked her to take us away so that we wouldn’t talk about it in the house while Ras is around.

It’s way too late for that though. Ras knows what he plans to do to our family.

Mamma made sure to offer us plenty of her usual guidance. “Remember, you may not understand your father’s ways, but everything he does is to protect our family.”

I’m so sick of hearing that. She said it all the time to us growing up.

How did it take me until the age of twenty to realize it’s a lie?

I feel trapped. Vince hasn’t returned my calls, and I don’t know why. My wedding is mere weeks away, and at this point, making any attempt to back out would be like setting off an atomic bomb.

What if Papà’s right about Vince not wanting the responsibility? Why didn’t I ask him about it at Vale’s wedding?

I gnaw on my nail. I don’t know what to do. I’m not a political mastermind.

All of this just feels wrong.

Except for what’s happening between Ras and I.

Which is crazy, because what we’re doing is objectively wrong. The Gemma from even a month ago would have never done what I did in that car with him.

I’m cheating on my fiancé. I’m risking us getting caught. I’m being selfish.

And it feels intoxicating.

The scene in the car played on repeat inside my head for the two days we were away.

I couldn’t wait to be back around him.

I want more. So much more.

I wish we hadn’t stopped.

A waiter snaps me out of my reverie when he comes to refill my water. I glance around the table. Ras is sitting across from me, while Cleo and I are sandwiched between Papà and Mamma. Rafaele, Rafaele’s mother, and Nero are here as well.

My fiancé may as well be a ghost. I barely register him. When I first met Rafaele, I was constantly aware of his presence, the way prey is aware of a predator. Now, it’s surprisingly easy to pretend he doesn’t exist. Why should I save my body for him? This emphasis on my virtue when most of the men in this room possess none is hypocrisy at its finest.

I wish I’d just said screw it and had sex with Ras. The thought of doing it makes my skin buzz with excitement.

I want to feel all of his attention on my body again, but with no restraint this time. I want him to lose himself in me. Those lips on my breasts. His fists in my hair.

He’d be gentle at first. Careful. I’m sure of it. That’s how he was with me in the car. But then he’d turn impatient. Demanding. It’s that contrast in him that makes me weak in the knees.

Ras cuts into his steak with precision and puts a piece into his mouth. The tendons on his thick neck move, and his jaw flexes as he chews. His big, rough hands make the fork look tiny.

Heat swirls between my legs.

I love those hands.

I love how they feel against my skin.

I love how just before he puts them on me, my body tingles with anticipation and everything comes alive.

He must feel the weight of my attention, because he glances in my direction. The expression on my face makes his eyes darken.

“Ras, when are you heading back to Italy?” Nero asks.

His gaze is still on me, and it flashes with pain. “Soon.”

What? My stomach drops. “How soon?” I blurt out, barely hiding my crushing disappointment.

He cuts another piece of steak. “No set date yet, but I’m likely to leave within the week.”

It’s an effort to maintain control over my features.

What is this? Why is he leaving?

Because you’re still getting married to a don. Did you think Ras would stay here forever?

No, but I just want a bit more time.

What for?

My nails dig into the flesh of my palms.

He’s somehow become the only good thing in my life. In the midst of all this betrayal, heartbreak, and chaos, he’s the only anchor I have left. A light in the darkness.

And it looks like I won’t even have that soon.